


Demons Aren't the Only Ones Who Make Deals

by silver_moon_howler



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Wings, Angel/Demon Relationship, Asexual Relationship, Couch Cuddles, Courtship, Crack Treated Seriously, Demon Courting, Demon Deals, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Gabriel Has Issues, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Godparents Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Multi, No Smut, Nonbinary Beelzebub (Good Omens), Nonbinary Character, Oblivious, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Other, Possessive Crowley, Protective Crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-07 11:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20308693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_moon_howler/pseuds/silver_moon_howler
Summary: It has come to Aziraphale's attention that most of Heaven thinks he and Crowley are only work friends, something about that doesn't sit right with him, he doesn't understand why but he makes a deal with Gaberial to help him gain his demons affection-so long as Aziraphale help Gabriel win some nameless's affection.And Crowley just thinks the idea of his former boss asking his help to seduce, Gabriel is hilarious-and as long as Beelzebub is offering to help him win Aziraphale's affection-why the heavens not?"





	1. The Deal is Sealed

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Go Romancing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20258503) by [cinnamonsnaps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamonsnaps/pseuds/cinnamonsnaps). 

Angels are defined often as supernatural beings who carry out the will of god, represented in human form with white wings and a robe. Ask most people and they will tell you that is the truth, however different outside opinions will tell you angels actually look like fantastical balls of light that speak with the forces of a thousand lost souls-altough whose lost souls no one can really agree upon, a much, much smaller group of individuals will tell you that that too is incorrect. Their perfect image of an angel would be something out of a taxidermists nightmare-a hundred snarling animal heads attached to the body of one great giant beast that stands as tall as the American Chrysler building. Unfortunately they would also be incorrect- to sum it all up in a very nice and accurate way the word angel could only be described using the word angel-because that is nothing short than what they are- a word attached to an ineffable device of my own choosing. They are every virtue acted on in times of war and every sin inflicted during times of peace. As well as everything in between- because everyone knows there is no difference, either way people are still dead and no one knows what happens afterward. 

So to say two angels sat down in Regents park would be correct and incorrect at the same time and yes they were angels but not angels by your own standards so the proper thing to say would be two phonetics sat down in Regents park to make a deal. 

"Good morning, Gabriel," Aziraphale whispered under his breath ecstatically, "It's so nice to see you these days." Gabriel craned his neck over his an old upside down newspaper he was holding too close to his face,  
"Shut it, shut up, someone could hear you." He ducked behind the paper when a group of children toddled by whispering shrilly in each others ears. Aziraphale clicked his tongue fondly,  
"Don't you just love children," Aziraphale hummed, "they always have the best games to play. You never see that sort of creativity on adults, now do you?" Gabriel throw the children a withering glare, "No, guess not-I don't see what's so exciting. The only thing they were brought on this earth to do was create more sticky fingered brats until the day of their species extinction is due." Aziraphale sighed, "You can't possibly think that, you must love them in some way, humans are such beautiful things, I've found that they have the remarkable ability to do what only God could seem to do-",  
"Aziraphale," Gabriel warned him,  
"I've found that when a human created something they put a bit of their life into it and make it a new, insert a piece of their soul into their passions-", Gabriel snapped his fingers and everyone in the park froze to a standstill. 

"Humans are...fine, but really I called you here today on the subject of demons." Aziraphale cocked his head,  
"Why ever would you want to speak to me about that...you agreed to leave me alone if-",  
"And heaven is leaving you alone...this is more of a personal request, yhough." Aziraphale squinted, "a personal request?" Gabriel nodded watching contently as a child's ice cream began to melt under the sunlight and onto the child's hands in a filth of sticky goo that would most certainly attract flies, he sighed happily- flies.

"I need help and I'm sure you need help to-I've noticed, you and your demon don't seem as close-I've been looking up human relationships and have found that on a level of intimacy most people would categorize you to as "work friends," Aziraphale frowned and behind him a patch of grass burst to flames, burning to a black shriveled anatomical heart, "...a what," he asked softly. 

Gabriel chuckled,  
"See? Frustrating, isn't it, which is why I propose we team up-", Aziraphale blinked,  
"Team up-frustrasting? Gabriel, do you...?"  
"No," Gabriel snapped, "I don't like a demon...I like someone...but not a demon." He tapped his fingers nervously along the rivets of the bench, Aziraphale smirked, "I never said demon."  
"But you were thinking it," he hissed. 

They both watched in fascination as ice cream dripped down the kids knuckles and down on his stark white shoes, staining the cotton, Gabriel winced, "Of course, I wouldn't tell you who I like, but it certainly isn't a pathetic demon, so if we in agreement-",  
"What are we agreeing to exactly, still not quite sure." 

Gabriel worked the tip of his finger in the benches grooves,  
"We're going to be each others birdman."  
"Excuse me," Aziraphale questioned, "a bird what?" Gabriel sneered clenching his fists, "Birdman, you know, someone who assists someone they know to help them get the person they like, you've been on earth long enough-you should know these things." Aziraphale nodded,  
"Ah, yes, I do believe I know what you're speaking of-I've heard them called Fly-fellows before but hearing myself say it out loud that sounds rather stupid-I believe your statement is more correct. " 

"So are we in agreement," Gabriel insisted, he held his hand out, tempting the other-if he were not currently very, very desperate he would have had his corporeal body burned on a large stack and dipped in the nearest church's holy water-but desperation was a very cruel, very beautiful thing that caused men to make more mistakes than they breath. 

Aziraphale having been along this same path with another more appealing character took Gabriel's hand and shook it sharply.  
"My dear fellow, I do believe we have a deal." 

Coincidences are said to be a roll of the dice-I myself disagree, in my infinite experience I would say coincidences are like using a reverse uno card in a role playing game that one would spend their whole life on in the basement of a Japanese dollar store that sells things made specifically for America. So the two demons coincidentally meeting in the Alnwick poison Gardens that very day was not only playing a reverse uno card in a roleplaying game but was also insisting that technically there wasn't any place in the rules that said you couldn't just do that-no one sets rules for how you don't play a game, just how you do-they expect you to follow unspoken rules all the same. No one told me I couldn't, so I did. 

"Lord," Crowley whispered, smoothing his leggings down, "you called me here?" Beelzebub caught a fly buzzing near him by the wing and watched it writhe on between their coffin acrylic nails,  
"Welcome, Crowley, it's so good to see you," their voice sounded as if someone had taken a sheet of aluminum and put it over an intercom at a grocery outlet and spoken into the microphone in the worst english accent imaginable. 

"Doubtful," Crowley deadpanned, "tell me, really why are you here." Beelzebub smelled in deeply and yawned, "doesn't it just reek of death here, Crowley. Can't you taste it? The pain, anguish?"  
"You should have smelled the 1340's," Crowley joked.  
"Now," they snapped, "onto buizzness." Crowley nodded, "right, on with it. Professional as ever I see, what've you called me here for today?" 

Beelzebub spat on the ground and watched the dirt corrode,  
"How's you, angel?" Crowley stilled, fighting back a watery smiled on his face, "my angel," he asked.  
"Mmyes, hell would like an assist with information inside of hea-",  
"No," Crowley snapped, "absolutely not, piss off." Beelzebub frowned in confusion, "wha-",  
"That angel is mine, you said so yourself, fuck off or my angel will use his resources to get me access to more holy water." Beelzebub's eyes widened, "why in the heaven would I want your angel?" 

The dagger like fangs that had been growing in Crowley's open maw shrunk back into little canines,  
"You-you don't," he stuttered, how could any one not want his angel? He felt the fangs in his mouth tighten, "who does hell want exactly?" Beelzebub worked their jaw nervously, "hell has requested that I seduce Gabriel-",  
"The Archangel," Crowley shouted turning many heads. Beelzebub's scowl sent a swarm of bothersome flies tripping over their own wings to sting their scornful faces. "Yes, the Archangel, who else you nitwit." They brushed dandruff from their shoulders, "anymore stupid questions?" Crowley shook his head, "Gabriel," he repeated, "well I'll be blessed." 

"So anyway," Beelzebub buzzed, "I thought, that since both of our angels don't love us-",  
"Now hold on-",  
"And we both need their attention-for completely different reasons, I thought, why not, Crowley izz already half way there." 

Crowley kicked at a clump of grass,  
"You want us to be each others wingmen, is that's what's going on here?" Beelzebub shook their head, "no, I'll be your wing..men, but you, you will help me keep this merciful angel under my cruel thumb." Crowley yawned, running steady fingers through his hair,  
"Sounds romantic," he deadpanned, "alrighty, I guess. It's a deal," he licked the tip of his finger causing sparks to fly, "where do I sign?" 

Beelzebub produced a large canvas contract from inside their coat, "sign your name under mine, pleazze." Crowley leaned in swirling his finger on the dotted line, "this better work, if I somehow loose my Angel's affection because of this you won't even have to worry about holy water-I'll do much, much worse." 

He twirled and waltzed toward the front gate his hips snapping like a rubberband-the majority of hell couldn't help but watch with the smallest hopes that the rubber band might just snap back.  
"Ciao," he called out, waving daintily, "I'll call you when I feel like it." 

Beelzebub watched Crowley climb into his car and drive away, down the old road.  
"Prick," they muttered and a thousand flies across the world looked up from their garbage and twitched nervously.


	2. Getting Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beelzebub misunderstands what it means to get closer to your crush. Crowley misunderstands his angel and Aziraphale misunderstands life.

"Okay so according to this..", Crowley peered over his glasses, "wikihow, becoming close is a sure fire way to get your crush-",  
"My what," Beelzebub hummed.  
"Right, you're new to this sorry," he scrolled back up, "you have a crush on Gabriel. It means you like him."  
"I don't like him," Beelzebub sneered, "I've been assigned to seduce him, not smash him or whatever you said!"  
"Crush-hey! I have a grand idea, why don't we get back to the matter at hand, you're also supposed to get Aziraphale to like me." 

Beelzebub snapped their fingers,  
"There, soon as you see him you'll know just how he feelzz."  
"What do you mean," Crowley asked nervously. Beelzebub picked at their suit jacket, "last year I tempted a woman to murder after seeing pictures of her husband with another."  
"Well Whoop Dee do for you," Crowley shouted, "what did you do?"  
"Aziraphale just received a whole box of pictures of you with," Beelzebub checked their watch, "Freddie Venus."  
"It's Mercury,"  
"Then Aziraphale received pictures of you with this Mercury Venus, man. Either way either he'll be indifferent or extremely jealous" 

Crowley smacked his lip,  
"I don't-", he bubbled with untapped rage, "I don't even know how I should respond."  
"Is this not what you wanted?" Beelzebub leaned idly against the table, the wood beneath their hand turned to decayed fibres and ash. "I can reverse the pictures," Beelzebub said. Crowley swallowed a scream,  
"Yes, please do. Please, please do. The absolute last thing I need is Aziraphale to receive illicit pictures of me with a random singer of a genre he despises." 

"Does the genre really matter," Beelzebub drawled, glaring at Crowley like he had eaten a worm.  
"If you want to seduce Gabriel," Crowley nearly shouted, "then yes, the genre really does matter."  
"I don't see how it does," Beelzebub muttered. "Tha-", Crowley shook his head frantically, "that's not important. Reverse it, please!" Beelzebub snapped their fingers, their cracked, yellowing nail clicking together, "all you had to do was demand," the huffed, "didn't need to say please." Beelzebub clicked their heels, dispersing into swarm and flying away out the back window. 

As stated before words have power that humans are not capable of understanding, a demon asking for something nicely was in fact the human equivalent to a slur. Please and thank yous got you nothing but pain in Hell. Fortunately Crowley was less of a demon then any of the others, he wasn't much of an angel now, either. He was above all else, celestial...and of course an idiot. 

"Gabriel actually stopped by early, Dear," Aziraphale commented later that night over wine. Crowley's heart clenched painfully,  
"He did," Crowley choked out, a goofy smile plastered on his lips, "what'd that prick say?" His finger reached out and fiddled with the cuff of Aziraphale's suit, he was drunker than ideal but sitting this close to his angel was agonizing. 

"Oh not much, he just wanted some information he was worried I overlooked during my time in the office," Aziraphale twiddle his thumbs, humming Bach with a content smile on his face. All the unnecessary blood in Crowley's form flushed to his cheeks, "I-I-oh?" His mouth felt inexplicably dry, he would be almost concerned if it wasn't sparked by anyone but his angel. 

"It was the strangest thing too, all that talk about romance and love..you'd think he was up to something."  
"Oh," Crowley snarled, a seething anger began to bubble deep in his gut, "Why was he talking about love." Aziraphale blushed, "no, reason...I didn't quite catch it," he rubbed his wrists-which over time Crowley had learned was Aziraphale's tick when it came to lying-he'd picked up the habit from a rather nice american con man that was visiting Queen Victoria with his traveling freak show-off that Aziraphale knew nothing about, he believed that the man was just a rather lucky individual who had come into large inheritance after the untimely death of his father. Crowley had managed to prevent Aziraphale from being robbed too greatly of his pocket money. But the man had made a lasting affect. 

"Oh," Crowley said simply as if that explained everything. And it did, it put everything in an entirely new frame of darkness for Crowley-just because it was true to him doesn't necessarily it to be right. He knew Gaberiel was after his Angel and Crowley would rather swallow holy water than let Aziraphale go off with that idiot, "Don't talk to him, angel, I'm sure he's just trying to incriminate you." Crowley dug his nails into the couch arm, he knew it was wrong to keep Aziraphale from meeting certain people but Gabriel had tried to kill them both in unspeakable ways. For an angel that was unforgivable-probably why Beelzebub liked him so much, Crowley mused. 

Three things had been going through Aziraphale's mind over the course of the conversation, it's important to remember that angels don't exactly think the way people do so for the writhing mass of knots in Aziraphale's brain produce even one coherent thought was ironically a miracle-the fact that he pulled three strands of thread out of his mind and laid them out like so was divine intervention, I'm actually quite proud of it. 

Of the three things Aziraphale thought he could only manage to say one,  
"I suppose your right, dear," because of course Crowley was right, why would Aziraphale even think about working with someone like that, Gabriel has never helped him in any way before, why should he start now? 

What Aziraphale actually wanted to say was,  
"I think you're gorgeous and if it weren't for the fact that I know you could never love me like that I would come clean with everything and throw Gabriel where he belongs in the trash." But the shame he knew that would follow if he confessed was even worse than the idea of working with such an unlovable angel. 

The third and final thought he had pulled from his metaphorical hat was only partial-there are some things that even I can't accomplish after all, but if Aziraphale had more than half a brain cell-which he collectively shared with his demon-he would have had enough sense to tell the other and get the half of their troubles over with,  
"I think Gabriel might like a demon." Unfortunately he didn't say anything for fear of Crowley prying more into the nature of their conversation, luckily for the European coast he hadn't come to the same conclusion Crowley had, the last time both of them were that angry at the same time most of the Mediterranean suffered enough flash floods to prevent several vacations. And a naturalists yearly club retreat. 

Half way across the world in the pits of darkest Michigan a small white daisy broke the gravel behind an old car factory. The daisy's petals peeled back and pollen filtered from the center of daisy until the form of a shimmering man stood amongst the trash and gravel in a neatly pressed suit that looked like it had never been worn, not even then, it was like the man's body wasn't touching the fabric at all. 

"Beelzebub," he called out stepping out of the mist and dust, "you wanted to see me?" The gravel surged up in a wave, it stood tall straightening and pressing close till it was like a sheet of black had been thrown over a mannequin, their lips moved but their voice traveled from all directions. If Gabriel had looked around he would notice small little speakers strapped to the backs of tiny little flies that swarmed in formation. 

"I called you here because of business," they scooted closer to Gabriel and the sheet of gravel pulled away revealing dark, glassy eyes that shined like oil under the moonlight, Gabriel's heart stuttered.  
"Business," he asked awkwardly. Beelzebub shuffled closer, "yes, business." He watched Gabriel for a reaction but couldn't seem to find the one he wanted in the complexity of the others face.  
'Get close to your crush,' he thought. Beelzebub frowned,  
"It's not working," he muttered.  
"What's not working," Gabriel asked softly, he didn't mean for it to be soft-angels are not meant to speak softly but he was. Beelzebub scooted closer, if Beelzebub could breath it would have tickled the crook of Gabriel's neck-if Gabriel felt the sensation of nerves at all he would have smiled softly. They stayed there until dust settled on their bodies and bugs had crawled in their clothes, just watching each other with nothing but fondness in their dead eyes. 

Half a thousand miles away a Kentucky preacher woke up in a cold sweat, bile building up in the back of his throat, just a car ride away all his preacher fathers before him rolled over in their graves spitting dust and worms from their puckered, rotted lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need suggestions people, I currently have two other very big projects going on in my life and it'd make it alot easier if you guys told me what you would like to see.


	3. What do they like?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angels aren't as good at hatching plans as they think they are.

"What does your love like to do in their free time?" Gabriel shrugged flicking lint from off his suit,   
"I don't know, torturing souls I suppose," he froze, "they're a lawyer...yes, they're a very good lawyer-and they're not corrupt, at all," he coughed, averting his eyes.   
Aziraphale sighed,   
"Dear, heavenly mother." He rubbed his temples nervously, "So you mean to tell me that you have no idea what they enjoy at all?"   
"I don't think they like anything," Gaberiel defended. 

Truthfully that just wasn't so, Beelzebub liked many things-they liked dancing, Billie Eilish, fruit, Gaberiel, and the torture of damned souls that they had tempted to the darkness to gain favor from their Satanic lord. That last one was Beelzebub's favorite past time. 

Gaberiel of course couldn't know that-it wasn't his fault, they just could never talk about anything other than work. Aziraphale was even less likely to know any of this-the only thing he could possibly think of was something he knew all humans liked, especially when it came to courting their fellow men.   
"Try chocolate strawberries," he suggested, nothing-he decided-was better than a bouquet of chocolate strawberries. 

Which was coincidentally the exact same thought going through Crowley's head as he browsed through the candy stores finer items. Only the best for his angel, he whispered softly. 

"Chocolate," Gaberiel whispered incredulously, "you expect me to give them something so human as chocolates?" He huffed fixing his suit, "give the lord of hell chocolate," he muttered, "they would laugh me out of heaven, no, something more subtle." Aziraphale nodded,   
"Of course there's always sight seeing, take them to see the ineffablity of the great world." Gaberiel nodded stiffly, "Sightseeing," he shrugged, "I suppose it could work." 

Sightseeing would in fact work wonders for their relationship. Oh how romantic it'd be, hailing the clogged Hudson-watching man kind burn away forests. If both of them could agree on something it was how beautiful it was to watch humans destroy themselves. 

"So how's your demon?" Aziraphale perked, "my demon is doing fine, but I think he might be upset with me, recently he's been snippy and cold-but he won't stop touching me," Aziraphale blushed, "I tried to ask what was wrong but everything came out all jumbled." 

Gaberiel thought for a moment,   
"You tried asking him nicely, yes?" Aziraphale nodded, "but nothing works, I even kindly offered him my desert and he still didn't tell me."  
"Well you know I can't suggest anything that's against the seven virtues, but I'm sure a demon would say something like to just tell him your dating a close friend, he would be teeming with so much jealousy. And once he's all nice and angry you just whoop, kiss him on his traitorous lips." 

Aziraphale chuckled,   
"That sounds like a great idea, except, you know, I don't have any close friends...so." Gaberiel smiled darkly-it looked down right terrifying on such a holy creature's face,   
"That's where I come in-if Beelzebub gets word of this they'll know I'm capable of feelings." Aziraphale quirked his eyebrows,   
"Yeah but angels don't date each other?" Gaberiel shrugged-he hadn't thought that far out,   
"They're too dumb to think about that, watch-you'll see." 

At that moment Crowley had chosen to text his angel,   
'Coming over soon, how does Godiva chocolate sound." It was a favorite brand over theirs, they both personally knew Lady Godiva at certain points of her life and were right beside her during her horse ride cheering louder than a mountains heart beat. Aziraphale panicked,  
"What should I do?" Gaberiel snatched his phone,   
"Here let me-", he typed rapidly hitting send. 

"Oh," Aziraphale fussed, "what did you text him." In bold letters the words,   
Can't, Dear. Sorry, I'm with my Gabriel right now, he and I are going out for dinner, stared back in ugly italics. They stared at text waiting for the typing bubbles to appear back on screen. Instead the whole world chose to rotate fast enough to send most anemics and Schizophrenics reeling in confusion. The sun abruptly filtered out, shadowed by the looming of a startled moon.  
"Well that's not supposed to happen,"Aziraphale wondered, "It must of worked." He blushed, "he could just be mad I'm spending time with you." Gaberiel groaned, "fine, I don't care. Just try and keep the lie believable enough for Crowley to tell Beelzebub."   
"Why would Crowley tell Beelzebub," Aziraphale asked.   
"Because Beelzebub said they were currently in contact." Aziraphale frowned, "Crowley never told me that...oh, I just hope it won't make to Beelzebub too angry." 

"If I ever see that cherry cheeked little imp," they choked out, "I will pluck every feather out of his oh so beautiful wings and stuff his inside with them so that when I roast him alive and serve it to Gabriel it will be like serving celestial turkey." Crowley backed away, "I know that it's a minor kink in our-",   
"Nu-uh, there's nothing minor about it. When you finally get to see your angel we need to do everything we can to get you two together, I will not loose to an unfallen." Beelzebub curled their fists, "I have half a mind to march upstairs and give Gaberiel a piece of my head." Crowley pinched his nose, "listen, I know we both don't like these results but really we need to keep our heads on here." Beelzebub frowned, "fix it, now!" Crowley bowed, "as you wish lord, but-",   
"But what," Beelzebub raged. 

"But you need to focus more on your side of the bargain, can't have you cheating me out, right?" Beelzebub hummed, "fine, how 'bout we go talk to your angel and I'll be there to help with your..your temptation."   
"Atta, demon! Come on, you're just going to love, Zira, he's an angel."   
"I know," Beelzebub grumbled


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley: That's so sad. Alexa, play worlds tiniest violin music.

"So, how's Gabriel?" Aziraphale's eyes flicked away from Crowley's lips,  
"Sorry," he asked. Crowley flicked his tongue in annoyance, "I said, how's Gaberiel, you two are so close you must know." Aziraphale nodded,  
"Oh, yes, Gabriel, he is...", Aziraphale twirled the table cloth with his fingers, "I suppose he is well, not much can be said about his personality though-", he caught himself, "Gabriel is just a dream," he murmured, "I've never been happier." 

Aziraphale wanted to believe that, he really did, but the way Crowley wilted his heart couldn't help but twist into knots.  
"I'm happy to hear that, angel." He picked sullenly at his food, "If you need any advice ever," he trailed off. Aziraphale didn't need to know everything to know exactly what Crowley meant. "I will come straight to you." They spent the rest of the day watching dust settled in the buoyant rays of light that swirled like waves.

"This isn't working," Aziraphale complained. Gabriel picked at his nails,  
"I think not, Beelzebub was fuming when I spoke to him-",  
"So I was right," shouted Aziraphale, he smiled, "You love the lord of hell," he teased, "You've found your love," he chuckled, hiding his smile behind his palm. 

"You shut your dumb mouth," Gabriel shouted, "I do not love a demon," he insisted, "you love a demon, I do not."  
"But you must," Aziraphale insisted, "we are beings of love, we are disciples of love, beings of affection."  
"And I do not love a demon," Gabriel screamed, "they are unlovable, beings of hate and sin-our opposite in every way." He deflated, "you are to continue the plan," his voice was steely and cold, "we're so close." Aziraphale wilted,  
"If this goes too far, I'm holding you accountable." 

Crowley was an excellent violinist, it wasn't a well known fact about the ex-angel but sure enough he played the violin more beautiful then any being on earth. One hundred and ninety six years of practice was arguably enough to perfect it. He had first taken up the instrument after hearing of the composer's death. Aziraphale had a deep-seated respect for a man who wrote whole symphonies without playing an instrument. Crowley had wanted to play for his angel, unfortunately he was too stubborn to admit he was good enough. 

"God damn it all to the bloodiest pits of hell," he cursed. Crowley pursed his lip and nibbled thoughtfully on the end bow. He was frustrated, not just with himself but with God for allowing such a horrible event to happen-he was unaware of the blessing in disguise I had been sending his stupid pining ass.  
"I think things are going pretty well, don't you?" 

Crowley whirled around, struggling with his glasses-he personally never played with them on.  
"What do you want Beelzebub?" Beelzebub kicked gleefully into the air, "Gabriel came to visit me...it wazz-", they swallowed their words, "it was glorious." What they neglected to mention was that the two celestial beings hadn't done anything at all, they met in the middle of a dusky yellow field and stared at each other until the moon was full and rain had clogged their joints.

"That's great for you," Crowley said, tweaking with his violin strings. "That was the next step of our plan, to spend time with each other." Beelzebub nodded, "yes, it's a good thing I scheduled a lunch with him." Demons never smiled, if they did maybe the world would have been a worse place to live in then it already is, if demons did smile Beelzebub would be pulling their jaw from baring to many teeth. 

Crowley nodded, "yes, yes, that's all great for you, I'm glad your happy." At that moment the phone chose to ring. Crowley picked it up,  
"Ello', this is Crowley, who's this?"

Aziraphale spoke softly on the other end with an edge of impatience,  
"Hello, dear. So sorry to trouble you,"  
"Nah, it's no trouble 't all, just chatting with an old friend." Aziraphale sighed,  
"Oh, Beelzebub's with you, that's good. Tell them that Gabriel invited me as his plus one for tomorrow...what ever that means." Aziraphale waited for a response, the phone was ringing softly and static echoed in the reciever. 

"I don't understand why I needed to say that Gabriel." Inexplicably all radios in England began to play Taylor Swift at full volume and could not be turned off unless you had a big enough mallet. Gabriel grinned, imagine the look of anger Beelzebub would shoot at him the next time they met, "trust me, Aziraphale. I've never led you wrong before."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I tried out for the school plat today and I'm super tired. Also, who else wants Crowley to serenade his angel?

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please please comment. All my readers are just so great and I want to hear from you guys. I like comments better than kudos. So please click a comment below and show your support or point our a spelling error. Thank you, dearly.


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